Antidote by LC Lehesaho

32

I don't leave the shower for a long time. The mirror above the sink has gone steamy from the humid air, and it's getting harder to breathe. Heavy as the feeling in my chest.

I'm losing her.

I can't lose her.

I can't lose them all. The smell of disinfectant comes to my nose, and I try to shake it off, knowing that it's only the memory playing in my head: the sterile hospital room, a bed with clean sheets, and ready to take in a new patient. The words passed away, and Amelia's cry. Her arms around me when she felt the same sorrow I did. If I had just been brave enough to run off with her, I wouldn't have lost her too.

Turning off the faucet and slamming the shower door behind me, I grab a towel and dry myself off, trying to keep myself calm and to not think about them.

I can get them out of my head, push all of those memories back into a box, and shove it deep inside of me, but I can't get her out. I don't want to get her out, ever.

She's the yin to my yang; Cobra pushes me until I stop bending, and then she bends in fucking perfect harmony in the other direction. We've never broken each other before, but right now, I feel like we’re shattered.

On autopilot, I dress in sweatpants and grab my cigarettes as I walk to the balcony. But when I get out there, I don't light up a smoke. Instead, I jump over the railing between our balconies and walk into her apartment. There are no lights on, so she must be sleeping already, but I don't care. I need her.

I need to make this right.

Her apartment is clean as always, everything in its place, and it's because she's obsessed about keeping everything in order. Her mind is the only thing she has no control over, so all that frustration leads to cleaning. I can't even count how many times I've found her at my place, cleaning up and placing my painting tools and markers in order. Once she took it so far that she arranged all of them by color. I have over two hundred markers alone, so it hadn’t been a quick job.

But if she finds some kind of balance by doing it, I'm okay with it.

I push her bedroom door open, peeking in. "Worm?"

Her sheets rustle in the dark, and then the lamp on her nightstand comes on. Cobra's pink hair is messy, which tells me that she's not okay either. Not even once in her life, has she gone to sleep without brushing her hair after a shower. Not. Even. Once.

She looks at me, eyes reddish, and leans on her elbows. "What the fuck do you need?" she huffs out, frustration clouding her features.

You. "Can we talk?"

"Is it a must?" she asks, looking tired as fuck, but I know she can't sleep either.

"Yeah, it kind of is." I convince her, even though I have no fucking clue what I'm gonna say. Sorry that I'm an asshole? Run away with me? Are you okay with it if I kidnap you?

Cobra pushes herself up, leans against the headboard, and pulls her knees to her chest. "Oh, my fucking God. Fine."

I walk to her bed, and the fact that her eyes roam over my bare upper body doesn’t go unnoticed. Like realizing it herself, she snaps her eyes up to mine. I'm tempted to mention it, tease her, but I'm just too much of a fucking mess to do that. And I know it's not the time to fuck around. I sit down on the side of the bed, crossing my other leg in front of me, and try to find something to say.

Nothing.

I come up with nothing.

"Oh, fuck." I sigh and wipe my face with one hand. "Okay, first of all, I want to apologize for... everything. I messed up last night, and I messed up today. I had no right to be angry at you for—" I clear my throat, but the choking feeling doesn't disappear. "You know, for having sex with Luke. Today. Or the last time either 'cause you're not accountable for me. We aren't together, and I kind of understand why you did what you did. So, I'm sorry about how I've been behaving."

I lift my eyes from the sheets to her, and Cobra stares at me, face completely blank. Not saying a word.

"Ah, okay." I'm crawling out of my own skin because I have no fucking clue how to do this. How to get her forgiveness. I wipe my sweaty palms on my pants, gathering myself. "So, um... I know I need to learn to take a minute and think before I act, and I'm sorry for what I did last night. It was a fucking low move. Can you forgive me?"

Cobra cocks an eyebrow. "Forgive you?"

"Yeah, like... give me another chance?"

"I think you should leave."

Fuck, how such simple words can hurt.

"Do you really hate me?" I ask, unable to look at her, so I stare at the wall behind her. The pressure inside me is excruciating. Somehow, she's managed to crack my box of feelings, and everything I've kept in is leaking out, making me even more unstable than usual. I can fucking feel that I have no control whatsoever.

"Tiger..." She throws her head back, staring at the ceiling. "Don't do this."

"I need to know," I say, swallowing the lump down and batting my lashes to keep the goddamn tears in.

She dips her chin, staring straight into my eyes, but I can't look at her. If I do, I will break. "This is not healthy. We just keep hurting each other all the fucking time."

I jump up from the bed, rubbing my face to get some fucking sense back in me, but I can't stay still, so I start to pace around like a caged animal, which is not far from the truth of what I am. "I don't want to hurt you! I love you so fucking much that I can't handle all of this. Leo said that you like him, so all I've been doing is asking myself what he has that I don't. Why is he better than me?"

From the corner of my eye, I can see Cobra's eyes following my every move, and now there is anguish clouding her features just like it's storming inside me. "Luke is not better than you. Yesterday, I lied to Dad and told him that I like Luke, so he wouldn't suspect anything. But now? I really like him, I'm not going to lie to you. And you know why? He doesn't know me, so he doesn't treat me differently. I'm not a Hayes to him."

I pause at her words and turn to look at her, squinting my eyes. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"One reason I haven't dated anyone before is because no one would go out with me," Cobra says, dropping her gaze to the sheets she fiddles with in her hands. "No one has ever asked me out, and no one has ever said yes when I've asked them out. I stopped asking about two years ago, 'cause all I ever got was wide eyes and a hell no response. Everyone wants to fuck me when they're drunk enough and feeling like a fucking man, but truthfully, Luke was the first guy who actually had sex with me sober. You all make fun that I only have sex with choir boys 'cause you never even see them, but they're far from it." She takes a breath and wipes her eyes. When she continues, her voice is strangled like she's about to cry. "I lost my fucking virginity to a guy who was ten years older than me, and in the middle of it, he poured coke on my breasts and sniffed it up his nose. So, yeah, Luke makes me feel like I'm not that Cobra fucking Hayes."

My mouth is literally open as I stare at her, shocked. "Holy shit." I run my fingers through my hair. "Holy fucking shit, why didn't you tell me this before? Jesus, baby."

I had no clue. All this time... I don't even know if I am angry, shocked, or what for her. Cobra lets out a laugh, which is the saddest thing I've heard.

"Why would I tell you that? So it would be my fault when you killed them because they made me sad or didn't treat me right? Or because they touched me at all?"

"I wouldn't—"

Cobra cuts me off. "C'mon, cut the bullshit. You would've killed each and every one of them, you and I both know it."

She's right, I would've killed them all. I walk back to the bed and sit down, eyes on her. "They'd deserve it. You're a fucking princess, baby, and you should be treated that way."

"But that doesn't include you, right?" She tilts her head to the side, looking at me with a serious expression.

"No, it doesn't include me, but that’s just because I know you," I say truthfully. "We're different. I know what you want, and you know I can give it to you. I would give you anything you want. If you want me to treat you like a princess, tell me, and I promise I will. If you want me to be gentle every second for the rest of our lives, just tell me, and I will."

Her eyes go around the room before she stops to stare at the painting on the wall—the one I made for her years ago. "It's not that. I've never wanted you to be gentle with me. But what I didn't want is for you to break my heart."

Those words hurt more than any physical pain I've ever experienced, and I've been through a lot. "I am so sorry, Cobra. Tell me what to do to fix this, please."

"I would tell you if I knew." Cobra meets my gaze, sadness leaking from her eyes.

"I can't lose you," I whisper, voice hoarse.

"I don't want to lose you, either, but I don't know how we can go back. We're not the same anymore."

I take her hand in mine, squeezing her fingers. "We don't have to be the same. But baby, I need you now. Please let me sleep next to you. Just for tonight, okay?"

She closes her eyes, letting out a long exhale, before looking at me again. "Just tonight. But don't think I've forgiven you. This won't change a thing."

"Yeah." I take a deep breath now that I'm able to do so. "But I promise, Cobra, that if I have to crawl through Hell to get your forgiveness, I will."